


wind chimes in a hurricane

by maevestrom



Series: Quarantine Blues [4]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- COVID-19, Blacking Out, Broken Families, Cars, Dissociation, F/F, Harrowing Situations, Homelessness, Homophobia, Hotels, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by Music, Internalized Homophobia, Masturbation in Shower, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mild Sexual Content, Moving Out, Music, Mutual Masturbation, Partial Nudity, Psychological Trauma, Queer Character, Queer Themes, Sexual Boundaries, Spotify Playlist- The Sequel, heart songs for queerantine blues is gigantic y'all, i included a relevant sample, i should include, if only that WERE an alternate universe gjx0 usa, my cheeks are hotter than elfire, now for the fun warnings, now the not fun ones, oh also i forgot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25058377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevestrom/pseuds/maevestrom
Summary: Her parents say it's because quarantine is over and she can go home, but the fact that her moving boxes are in the rain says otherwise. On some level, she acknowledges the good fortune of her girlfriend being willing to help her move back home, but as time goes on, the less fortunate everything feels.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Quarantine Blues [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1725118
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The only things getting me through right now are 
> 
> a) extreme escapism in the form of six hours of Three Houses at a time 
> 
> b) three hundred heart songs for my quarantine blues 
> 
> c) my girlfriend Izzy who inspired some of this
> 
> d) and writing about marihilda's situation and showing the perseverance of queer people 
> 
> This is more explicit than I usually do. Again it is not like a full smutfic, I do not know if I will ever get comfy with writing one, but sex IS a part of it and quite bluntly so. Also, frank talk and the occasional show of mental illness affect, which I think deserves its own warning if you do not expect it so that's why I often leave fics at orange for Archive Warnings. It gets heavy a lot, but I never do any queer struggling for no reason. I promise. 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Xjaz7QFVhPl2XHamZ0qeh?si=I69Zq8-AQPC734eFiZaGbQ  
> This is a list of songs that inspired a lot of this. They're all on my giant quarantine list for the curious!

Marianne's thankful that she can fit her necessities into her purse. It's the first thing that has gone right for her in way too long and circumstances have begged her to dissociate again like she did last night dealing with everything herself. It's too tempting to leave her body and lose her mind right now, but she takes a deep breath and faces the day. 

Hilda has been carrying Marianne's belongings to the trailer mismatched to her gray nineties coupe that she swears to the Goddess looks like the kind of car that landlords drive. Marianne sets her purse in the car's passenger seat and goes out to see the damage. 

The worst that has gotten to everything is the rain, which has damaged the boxes and anything wooden. When she could no longer afford rent, she sold her furniture and car before U-Hauling here. It all could only go to her parents' garage and take up space. Maybe she always saw something like this happening, ever since she was a kid. 

"Let me help," she offers. 

"It's okay," Hilda says brusquely. "These boxes are halfway to falling out. If you pick one up it might fall out and make a bigger mess." 

She gestures to the ones she placed under a tree since her parents would just put them back on the driveway if she put them back in the garage. "Even those?" 

"Afraid so, Mari Berry." 

She looks at them pensively and sighs. "I understand. Do you need any help, then?" 

Hilda goes for another box, holding it by the bottom. It looks unsteady, but Hilda marches on regardless. "I'm fine. I have anger adrenaline right now. It's like roid rage." 

Marianne tries to chuckle but it comes out as a choke. Hilda plops the box into the trailer and sighs hard enough to cause a tornado. "I'm sorry you have to do all of this for me." Marianne looks down and misses Hilda's physical reaction. "You seem exhausted and angry." 

"Don't be sorry," Hilda snaps. "Yeah, there's a lot of people I'm mad at, but none of them are you, baby." 

Damn. Marianne's happy that Hilda isn't mad at her, at least, but now she feels a need to comfort her for the same reasons she's failed to comfort herself. "It was always temporary," she explains, "and I knew that. The abruptness was a surprise, but… we're dealing with that, aren't we?" 

Hilda nods. "Yeah, I mean…" She meets Marianne's eyes, and something in them softens her face to one of remorse. "I still wanna, like, break one of their windows, but… I'll try and keep it down." 

"Take a few deep breaths. Get your strength back up, and get some clarity in your eyes. My therapist says sometimes that's enough." 

Hilda complies. Marianne watches her return to the girl she grew to love. A girl who is not all thistle and weeds, not so disarmingly helplessly honest. A little closer to a girl who scream-sings  _ Joey if you're hurting so am I  _ in the car with her before giggling and who charms everyone around her enough to carry her in a chariot and feed her grapes. 

She's not all the way there yet. Marianne misses her and can only hope she comes back. 

Hilda puts the last box in. With no furniture or heavy items, it doesn't take much to pack everything else. Marianne looks to see if it's done and upon surveying that it looks good, thanks her. 

"Course," Hilda says. 

Marianne turns away, stares at the sky, and swallows. Maybe this all needed to happen, but she doesn't like that she put people out because of who she is. 

Against herself, her stomach drops at the idea of this being the last time she sees her parents. Even if that's what they want, it's not right of them, and even if it's right for her, it's not what she wants. 

She performs the sign of the cross over her and gets into the passenger seat of the car. Her fingers drift into her purse for comfort and she smiles weakly as she waits for Hilda.

Hilda gets into the driver's seat. As she goes to start the car, she takes a couple of deep breaths instead and rests her head on the steering wheel. She looks like she's falling apart, which Marianne thought  _ she  _ must have looked like. 

She thinks back to her outburst and fears that maybe, in an indirect way, it's her fault.

"Hey… just to, like… make it official…" Marianne can't tell if she's especially whispering or speaking in her normal wispy cadence, but at the very least, Hilda looks at her. If she talks any more, she's gonna hesitate, so she places her fingers on Hilda's cheek and moves it just so in a telltale manner. 

"Oh." 

That's all Hilda says before she leans into the kiss. Marianne's wanted this for ages, and circumstances have painted the situation enough to let Hilda know that this is a soft kiss. Marianne's surprised to take the lead, exchanging small, breathy kisses while cupping her head. Hilda wraps her arms around Marianne, inching her closer. Hilda is tiny but has always had a presence that threatened to overtake Marianne's. Right now, it feels so nice. It doesn't solve everything, but Hilda feels like a balm.

They split apart eventually. Hilda looks down at the console, hand in her hair, her cheeks flushed, breathing deeply. Marianne would like to kiss her again, but there is a time and a place. Maybe this wasn't the best place in the first place, but maybe that made it perfect. 

It's confusing.

But Marianne never expected it to be easy.

\---

Hilda pulls over in the gas station. In this state, you have to pump your own gas, which annoys her to no end. Marianne says "you can do this" in a way that likely isn't sarcastic since Marianne rarely is. An attendant has to help Hilda after seeing her struggling and Hilda has nothing in her to make her want to butter him up. He leaves with a slight distemper and Hilda couldn't care less. He's probably mad because she cupped her hands over her nose and mouth because no one around Edmund wears a damn mask. 

Marianne returns from the mini-mart next to them. She's wearing a mask and carrying out a couple of plastic bags. She offered to pay for the gas, which may be a lot as they're twelve-hundred miles away from their home… or, at least Hilda's. Hilda waves quickly before she removes the nozzle and puts it back. When she gets in the car, there's a cheap lemonade in the cupholder, another in Marianne's lap.

"Drink up," she says. "You did a lot of muscle work to get us here."

Hilda smiles and takes hers out of the holder. She can’t throw the lid off fast enough before she takes a huge gulp. It’s very undignified but when she finishes, Marianne is still smiling at her with twinkling eyes with bags around the circles. “Bette Davis Eyes,” Hilda mumbles to herself. “How could I get so lucky?”

“Huh?” Marianne looks confused but still maintains a piece of her smile.

“Juuuuuust thinking out loud,” she drawls. 

“ _ Bette Davis Eyes _ ?”

“Oh, it’s a song I wanna listen to,” she explains, thankful that that’s technically right. “It’s on your list, right?” Marianne nods, then Hilda plugs her phone into the jack near the console. Finagling a bit until the music turns on, then picking the said song, she sets the phone down and closes the lemonade.

“Thanks for the drink. I think if I drink anymore, I’m gonna down it in a gulp.” She turns the car on. 

“Do you want mine? I’m not that thirsty.”

An eighties guitar-synth riff plays from the speakers of the car. “I’m good,” Hilda says. “You already drank from it anyways.”

Marianne just says “Uh…”

Hilda has to think for a second, then nearly honks the horn from a faceplant. “Oh, that’s not what I-” Marianne finally busts up in giggles, and Hilda laughs with her. Marianne's laugh is so pretty, like wind chimes in a hurricane. “Ah, whatever. Let’s just leave this shitty area in the dust, okay?”

“I’ll miss a lot,” Marianne says, “but I will not miss it here.”

Hilda offers her a tender smile, one more vulnerable than she expected. She’s had trouble expressing her pride in words lately, but maybe smiles like this help communicate that.

Twenty minutes later finds them on a straight highway in the hinterlands, and Marianne’s already slumped over asleep, leaning against the door. Hilda presses the lock mechanism by her own door on instinct. She probably didn’t negate a disaster or anything, but she was gonna be on edge like she has been a lot lately. She hopes that she hasn't nerved Marianne out too much but she can barely hide how much she wants to go around and take a baseball bat to everyone in this damnable territory that Marianne once called home. 

Dorothea says that Hilda's passionate dedication is a charming attribute of hers, but Marianne wouldn't want to join her smashing mailboxes like Dorothea would, so she tries to keep her bloodlust to a minimum. She's glad that she can personally make sure Marianne gets home safely but she  _ cannot  _ fuck this up. 

Dorothea reminds her of home. She misses it there. She already told Claude that she wants to join the Golden Deer Alliance or whatever it's called when they can be active again. Especially seeing Marianne in such a precarious position, she wanted to be a part of activism, putting money where it's needed. Claude was the most well-behaved he's ever been because he was trying to keep his cool, but he started crying a little into their hug and says that Hilda's changed and it's good to see.

_ You've changed too,  _ she responded with a giggle, and he has; he attributes it to Dimitri's influence but she knows he did his own part. He's been a little more serious lately but has stepped away from the news cycle every now and again even as the lockdown extends a few more months with fluctuating restrictions. Everyone's changed a little. Maybe it's the emotion they've all faced, but Dorothea has also been a little more open to people who aren't Petra; has allowed herself to be comforted. Bernadetta has been a little less of a recluse, and that little means a lot. She's even learned more about Lin from her; they sound like a good person.

The eight of them still play online games every now and again, or sometimes just have a kiki with all of them on video chat, except Marianne of course, who chats via text and occasionally teases Hilda in DMs in a way she's too happy to match publicly. Bots will play whatever song they want, and she remembers Marianne reacting to  _ A Mask Of My Own Face  _ with  _ is it wrong that I relate to this,  _ because it was on  _ heart songs for quarantine blues  _ just after.

That very playlist plays in the background as Marianne sleeps, turning to a song that Hilda knew in middle school. Now, she recognizes it as a fun and fluffy pop-rock jam but back then it was a sweeping grand romantic statement. It can't have been the same for Marianne, as she never listened to any secular music until she hit her twenties. She wonders how Marianne found this, what it means to her, if the lyrics hit her in the heart, if some part of her memory feels young again at the guitar strings. She's glad that she has all the time in the world to ask her. 

Now that Marianne is back with her, Hilda feels like she never left yet also like she was gone for a thousand years. Hilda wants to hold her all the way home but she can't really do that while driving. She wants to believe the balm of Marianne being here next to her, her dozing breath hitting Hilda's ears like little kisses, will make her forget about the pain of her being gone, her not speaking to anyone, her telling Hilda  _ I have to go, love you  _ when the deadline extended a month which is just adorable now because even if the Edmund territory thinks it's over, it's not.

Nothing stops hurting.

She's just glad Marianne's back. 


	2. Chapter 2

Marianne is with Hilda at a roadside motel near the junction of two highways. It's on the outskirts of some town near Myrddin, not near where anyone could call home but not feeling like the place she left. It's an alarmingly lonely feeling. 

It must show on her face even through the mask because Hilda loosens up in a way she must think Marianne doesn't notice. Casually, she pecks Marianne on the lips (as best as she can through the masks) and says "we're halfway there." Marianne looks around to see if someone's looking at them, but the only people around don't seem to be. 

That doesn't make the eyes she feels on her neck go away, but she nods at Hilda as they walk into the motel. She stands vigilant as Hilda gets a reservation and sweet-talks a discount out of the front desk worker. She doesn't hear what is said as she's too busy looking around, glancing at the people who wander around the main room. One looks at her- also wearing a mask, since they're far enough from the hornet's nest- and Marianne jerks her head away. 

Hilda finishes, key card in her hand. "Cool, I got it, Mari Berry. Room 209." 

Marianne smiles as she follows Hilda, waving politely at the attendant before she turns around and takes Hilda's hand. She feels a little funny showing any sort of affection publicly but lets Hilda lead her up the stairs to their room, silently relishing in the comfort of her guiding hand.

Marianne didn't bring more than her phone and a small change of clothes that reside in her purse, whereas Hilda has a whole day bag with three changes of clothes, some beauty maintenance objects, a few snacks, and a couple of books. She lets Hilda shower first but anticipates Hilda taking so long that she won't bother until the morning. She's right. An hour later finds Hilda on the bed, crossing her legs, slicked hair only halfheartedly blow-dried, wearing something new that Marianne only half-notices. It's already seven in the evening and she already feels sleepy, but every time she looks at Hilda, skin light, eyes cloudy, legs taut, she wakes up more. Blinks a few times. Feels peculiar wetness in her mouth. 

"I can order us takeout," Hilda offers.

Marianne realizes that she's too busy staring at the shape of her chest to be paying attention. After a few seconds, she notices Hilda look up at her with a half-cocked smirk. "Can I help you?" she teases. 

Marianne jolts. "Uhm. Takeout! Right?" 

"Yep." 

Marianne grins. She was right! "Uhm, at the gas station I bought some food type stuff. It's in the fridge. We can get it when we're hungry and save money." 

Hilda nods with a light smile. "I'm down with that." 

"Besides, you paid for the room. And I know that you'd pay for the food." 

"I always pay for luxuries. They're my own elective decisions because you'd sleep in the car if you were alone." 

Marianne shrugs, unable to argue with that. She's too used to it. She could tank it, but she'd pay for the room herself if it meant Hilda was comfortable. 

She turns to her side, facing Hilda. Hilda looks back at her, leaning on her pillow. Marianne's heart lurches and she isn't sure she wants to do anything but she also really wants to, and she hates herself either way. 

"Can you give me a second?" 

Hilda smiles. "Sure sure, babe." 

Marianne thanks her and walks to the bathroom. She resists the urge to hide beneath the lip of the bathtub, sleep submerged in her own fear, fear still a lot cleaner than what she used to wish for. She used to want to sleep until the water ran red, but she feels her tongue probe her own mouth and the dampness doesn't taste like blood and there is nothing calm in her heart. 

She isn't sure how the hell Hilda spent thirty minutes doing things other than showering and relieving herself in here because there are just a mirrored medicine cabinet and a sink, the lip of which Marianne is hanging onto for dear life. This is the first time she's seen Hilda in person since they confessed, longer still since they last saw her on the eve of the pandemic. They certainly were not girlfriends before she left, although they didn't really need more than a nudge in each other's direction.

Well… Marianne needed more. She needed more than to be in a white room next to choir music and a living room where two people taking steps to erase her from their life read scriptures to affirm that they were better people than her. She hates that she made Hilda wait when it was already so hard for them. 

This… only feels like the right course of action. Not  _ great,  _ but correct. Hilda deserves some love. She deserves to know that Marianne loves her. 

Marianne steels herself and leaves the bathroom. 

Hilda is sitting up on the bed. Marianne can smell apple perfume from where she stands. She could drink it in, it's so thick, but she likes it because Hilda is very much a thick fog of perfume. Marianne takes a deep breath and knows if she was more correct, she wouldn't need to prepare for this like a fight, but what helps helps whether she likes it or not.

The two kiss before Marianne reaches the bed. There's little coy and curious about it; Hilda's tongue is past Marianne's lip in two seconds and she presses their hips together. It scares her, but she's lost in the thrill and  _ very  _ confused. 

They collapse on the bed still in a tangle. Marianne takes advantage of their height difference to break the kiss and move her lips to the top of her head, hands resting on her shoulders. Hilda kisses her neck and all of her resolve vacates in a single moment. "Oh my," she whispers, threading fabric through her fingers until Hilda slightly pulls away for air. She still gasps for it, and Marianne feels something boil inside of her. 

Marianne only notices what Hilda is wearing now that she's this close. She takes the light plaid jacket from her shoulders too gently, Hilda breathing hot and halted into her neck. Lightly, she tosses it in the direction of a chair. It probably doesn't land, but Hilda looks too gorgeous on her spaghetti strap tank top for her to check. Good thing she (wisely) didn't haul her boxes with only this on or Marianne would be glued to the grass back home staring in very thirsty shock. As for now, she drifts her hand across Hilda's arm and breathes kisses into the top of her head. Hilda's biceps are very taut, lean muscle. She's deceptively buff; deceptive is how she likes it. 

"You're killing me," Hilda hisses, awestruck agony in her voice. Marianne almost stops for a second, worried that she might be doing this wrong, but another breath from Hilda makes that thought go away. She imagines if Hilda were to kiss her again, it might keep her unconscious, lost in the feelings. She lightly pushes Hilda against her neck, who gets the message and kisses again; soft, then hard enough to make Marianne moan breathily. Maybe this  _ was  _ a good idea, after all. 

She lowers her hand to rest on Hilda's thigh, grasping around her leg, the nylon in her miniskirt feeling as smooth as a wave. Hilda sucks in a sharp breath. " _ Fuck, _ " she hisses. "What are you  _ doing  _ to me, Marianne?" 

Marianne hums with far-from-innocent a tone. She places her free hand on one of the spaghetti straps. Hilda isn't wearing a bra so… this is it, huh? The idea gives Marianne chills. She tries not to let it consume her, hiking up Hilda's skirt with one hand while the other grasps the spaghetti strap off of her shoulders. It hits her as she gets closer- everything before now was a long plateau on the sin wagon before a gradual slope downward. And she's on the precipice of the cliff, wondering if she should fall or not.

"Hey, babe…" 

Hilda's whisper sends a shock to her system and she pulls the tank top over her head, pulling her damp hair up with it in long slicks. She tosses it in the same wayward direction as the jacket and pulls away to better view a topless Hilda. There's a volley of stretch marks along the side of her right breast, following the curve. Her left is smaller but perkier. Hilda's blushing for possibly the first time that Marianne has seen, and she knows she's not a stranger to this. Not like Marianne is. Marianne has never minded; someone in this relationship has to have more experience than reading a saucy lesbian romance or two. 

"You're beautiful," Marianne whispers, and Hilda's mouth forms a perfect little o, as if she waited for those two words from Marianne all her life. She couldn't get enough. She wants to freeze this moment in her life. Yet calling her beautiful isn't enough. Something more than that comes to her tongue but flees before making itself known. Marianne lets it go and kisses Hilda's neck. Hilda gasps  _ fuck  _ as Marianne does, digging her nails into Marianne's blouse. Marianne notices that two of each hand feel significantly shorter than the others; upon recognition, she kisses harder, hiding her blush in Hilda's skin.

"Baby, you're so good," Hilda encourages. "Baby-" When her breath hitches in her throat and interrupts her next words, something heats up in the center of Marianne, through her veins traveling directly to her loins. She aches, but something feels off for that. It's the first time she naturally got turned on by someone else, and it's  _ this  _ way, but she ignores any off feelings because Hilda is slowly falling apart, ready to jump into the ravine that Marianne is in front of, and  _ she's doing this to her.  _

She trails her peppered kisses downward to the top of Hilda's right breast. "Oh, goddess, Marianne," she hisses, nails getting lower. "Don't stop, please, don't stop." Marianne obliges, moving her lips ever so gradually lower until they near her nipple. Marianne traces a finger along the longest stretch mark on her breast and revels in the loudest moan from Hilda she's heard yet. Her stomach flips back and forth but she loves making Hilda come apart, falling into a mess around Marianne's lips, giddy to be vulnerable in a way that she can only envy.

She realizes that she's neglected her other hand that's taken up residence just below Hilda's thigh. In a swift motion, she moves it under her skirt straight to the top of her thigh where her panty line is, close to where her hand should never be. But it's different. It's  _ Hilda.  _ It's happening to Hilda, who wants this. Who needs this. Who needs  _ her.  _ Who could have anyone but needs  _ her.  _

Hilda groans again, falling onto her back and taking Marianne with her. Marianne gasps as she falls, lips and hands grasping nothing but air for a moment until she lands. "I can't  _ take  _ it," Hilda breathes, voice disarmingly husky. Marianne is about to teach her that she  _ should  _ learn how fingers wrapping around the line of Hilda's underwear until Hilda rests her own hands on Marianne's upper thigh.

The first thing that Marianne feels is a slight jolt of pain as she feels both hands press forth  _ there,  _ blithely atop her scars, unaware of their unfortunate landing. The second is just a sense of wrongness, that a pair of hands,  _ her  _ hands, shouldn't be  _ that close,  _ because it's wrong, it's wrong, it's very  _ wrong,  _ and the third is that she hasn't moved in over a minute, hasn't seen anything, hasn't been fully  _ here _ .

"Mari?" Hilda doesn't sound frustrated. She sounds afraid, apologetic like she did something more wrong than just not know that Marianne is wrong for her. "Mari, are you okay?" 

"I'm sorry," she whispers. Distantly, she can tell that something has gone drastically wrong, but she can't feel anything other than assessing that, yes, this is what she was worried about before Hilda looked at her with cloudy, pleading eyes. 

Hilda looks at her and her face softens as she lets go of Marianne's thighs. "I'm sorry," Marianne says again. The distant voice in her head tells her that it's over, that she messed up and she should own that. It sounds so objective, so unbothered, that Marianne believes and accepts it. 

"It's okay, babe," Hilda whispers far too sweetly. "I don't mind. It's not always…" Running out of words, she just repeats "it's okay" even though Marianne feels like it's not, but also doesn't feel much of anything at all.

Hilda offers an out. "Wanna watch TV?" 

Marianne nods and offers a smile. "That seems nice." She lets go for good and flops to the side. Hilda sits up as if to go for her tank top, but Marianne says "You don't have to." 

"Are you gonna be all right?" 

"Yeah, I'm cool with that much." 

Hilda smiles, sweet and steamy at once. "Okey-doke." She opens the drawer of the nightstand and says "Let me just find the TV guide…" As she digs through it, Marianne spies a scripture book and wishes to throw it out the window, but as she sees a topless Hilda nearly disappear in the drawer and feels bad. How selfish it would be, she thinks, to desire Hilda but give nothing in return. 

As Hilda searches, Marianne closes her eyes and takes her blouse off. She actually did wear a bra, which she now unbuckles. The idea of putting her nudity on display for anyone, even Hilda, feels somehow incorrect, but she doesn't want Hilda to feel alone or taken advantage of. So she finishes unbuckling and lets her small breasts rest in the open, looking pretty unkempt and lightly hairy but… maybe they'll do the trick. 

"Got it," Hilda announces with a frustrated sigh that says  _ finally _ . She reaches for the remote, and Marianne feels a  _ bit  _ cheeky when she hands it to her, even though the rest of her is kind of terrified. 

Hilda takes it, then looks Marianne up and down. "Oh,  _ wow, _ " she says breathily. "You're so pretty." 

Marianne smiles shyly. "Thanks." 

"I mean it," she insists. "You sure this is alright?" 

Marianne nods. "If you're doing this, I want to," she lies. 

She wonders if Hilda could tell after Marianne doesn't say anything for two hours afterward. 


	3. Chapter 3

Hilda tries to set her alarms to play nice and soothing songs so she isn't forced awake in a panic. Unfortunately, that makes the tail end of her dreams very unusual as real-life music tends to get in the way of whatever messy visuals her head has concocted. She's back in a warped, tiny version of Enbarr that looks suspiciously like Mushroom City from Mario Kart that she  _ knows  _ is Enbarr, but as she tries to flag down a bus to ask for directions, her dream is invaded by a soft soundscape, and after about twelve seconds, Hilda  _ knows  _ and wakes up slowly, staring at the ceiling of the hotel room as it gets clearer and the music starts having words like  _ nothing you say will ever be wrong.  _

Hilda leans to sit on the edge of the bed. She doesn't have a shirt on but upon thinking back they didn't go all the way and Hilda's a little disappointed by that but also surprised that someone as mousey and introverted as Marianne made the first move  _ twice  _ within the waking hours of the same day. She's gotta admit, she didn't know the girl had it in her, but she's strangely proud. 

Before she gets analytical or anything, she feels a pair of arms before she sees them interlace loosely around her neck, feels a chin on her shoulder, and a pair of tits against her back. She's surprised out of thinking, then she remembers that Marianne is a thing and beams. 

"Good morning," Marianne whispers jaggedly like she's trying to hide relieved sobs. 

"You okay?"

"I'm fine…" When Hilda doesn't respond, Marianne clarifies "I'm fine now." Hilda reckons that's all she's gonna get from her, so she kisses the knuckles on one of the hands around her neck, taking it in her own, and finally turning off the alarm with the other.

"Good." 

Before Marianne has any fears that Hilda would take it too far, she gets up and stretches, Marianne's arms slipping away from her. "Hey, ah," she says amidst a yawn, turning back toward her. "D'ya wanna get breakfast on the go?" 

Marianne rubs her eyes. They're slick with something which concerns Hilda. "It's…" she looks for a clock like they still make analog clocks.

"Five." 

"Thanks." Marianne yawns and stretches herself. Her tits rise and fall with the rest of her, not too far removed from the line of her torso but part of what makes up the humble, lovely Marianne she's so gaga for.

When Marianne meets her eyes to find her staring, she just shrugs. "You're cute." 

Marianne flushes red. "You…" She points but nervously giggles as she lowers her hand. "I forgot that I slept like this." 

Hilda shakes her chest. "Told you it's more freeing sleeping without a bra." 

"I thought I was gonna fall through the bed," she grouses. "But yeah, uhm… we can definitely get it to go. Shouldn't take us much to pack. Let's just…" She waves her hand in front of her face, eyes half-lidded. "Get it soon." 

Hilda nods, digging through her bag for a shirt. "Okay." 

"I need coffee." 

"Definitely." 

"I need coffee  _ bad. _ " 

Hilda giggles and gets a fresh shirt out of the bag, throwing it on. Marianne stands next to her and picks hers up off of the ground. 

"No bra?" 

"Later." 

Hilda giggles again. Marianne takes a look at her and adjusts her shirt to cover her nipple, then Hilda laughs. "I'm so tired." 

"Me too." 

"Yeah…" Hilda remembers the tears in Marianne's eyes and how she held her and wonders just how tired she is. She always looks like she has bags under her eyes that she says is just natural, but sometimes Hilda wonders. 

"I, uh…" Hilda gestures at the bag. "I'm gonna go out and warm the car up. You okay with checking out?" 

Marianne nods. "I think so. I just… gotta get ready." 

"And not fall back asleep." 

"That too." 

Marianne's thumbs-up is so adorable that Hilda exchanges a quick kiss with her. It's brief, but the steam is delectable, and she doubts that it'll ever fully go away. 

Hilda grabs the keys off of the nightstand, puts her mask on with practiced quickness, and says "Be there waiting for you!" 

"I'll see you there!" 

It feels so domestic right now that it punches her in the gut in the sweetest shock imaginable. She walks out before she decides to start crying then and there. She leans against a wall, lazily looking at the parking lot, fluorescent lights compensating for the sun not yet risen. That moment just… stirred her heart. Sure, she had best-case scenarios of  _ having  _ Marianne but she had no idea how it would manifest. She still isn't sure what the future holds, but she likes the idea of things being… normal, but together. It feels real.

Also,  _ where the fuck is her car?  _

Hilda breaks out of the trance before she knows it. Finding the nearest staircase, she all but runs down it as she tries to find it. She's  _ certain  _ she parked close to the office, and even if she wasn't, a giant attached trailer isn't easy to miss. She's hyperventilating as she gets to the spot she  _ knows  _ she parked in, but there's nothing there on the first inspection.

On the second, she sees shattered glass litter the ground. She doesn't believe it until she steps on it. Then it's like the world gets further away and she thinks she's gonna vomit. She looks around to see if her car is  _ anywhere  _ else, then that's when she screams. 

Her car. Her car wasn't a new model or anything- probably as old as she was- but it was nice and comfortable and certainly not the nicest car in the parking lot and she's sure she locked it. She's sure, and she isn't sure why anyone would steal it- 

_ Marianne. _

All of Marianne's belongings. Her clothes, her books, her linens, her appliances- everything. Bad enough that her parents threw all her boxes in the rain; now… now… 

Holy fuck. This can't be real. She has to be dreaming. 

She doesn't think of much of anything. She thinks her mind shuts off like a television and doesn't turn on until she's back in the hotel room with her mask still on, Marianne is on the bed with her, the clock reads a quarter past eight, and as Hilda remembers the situation she can tell from how sore her throat is that this isn't the first time she cried. 

Marianne looks at her, eyes glazed over. "Hilda?" The way she regards her isn't of the horror she expected.

"Oh my fucki-" She realizes, and cries harder. "What the fuck?" 

Marianne strokes her hair gently, and Hilda feels entirely undeserving. "Marianne, what did I do?" 

Marianne looks slightly surprised, but not overly. She adapts quickly enough. "I mean, I can't say I think much was unjustified-" 

Hilda puts a hand up. "Please just…" She's two steps away from falling apart. "Tell me." 

Marianne looks at her, kisses her scalp again, and nods. "You were the one to find that our car had been stolen." 

"I remember that." 

"I was just outside of the room with my things when I heard a commotion. Apparently, in the office you were fighting with the woman at the front desk. You looked out of it. I could tell. I just tried to calm you down and take your place. Apparently she saw the car driving off at one-thirty last night and thought we had just left. I think you thought that was bullshit and I agreed, but I coaxed you upstairs and paid for another night while we got our bearings."

" _ Mari… _ " 

"I know it wasn't the smartest move. I don't feel safe here myself. But I didn't think it best to figure things out from the road, so I wanted to give us an extra day." 

"It's not  _ that.  _ I get that. I just…" Hilda pinches her nose. "I'm sorry you had to pay for it." 

"I didn't mind." 

"But you lost all your shit!" At that, Hilda sobs harder. Marianne kisses the top of her head but she doesn't stop crying. "You lost it and it's all my fault." 

"It w-" Marianne stops herself. Plainly, she asks "how do you think it was your own fault?" 

Hilda shrugs, and Marianne rubs circles into her shoulders. "I just, you know… didn't really treat this as grave as it deserved. I was, like… kissing on you in public and I mentioned I was helping my girlfriend move to the front desk." 

"Oh." 

"Like, I was still in Enbarr mode where you can do that and at least people are, like, whatever. They don't start shit usually. I think I'm too used to things being okay that…" Another sob cuts her off and she apologizes again.

"It's okay, Hilda. You're okay. We don't know if that's why this happened. And if it was, you were just trying to comfort me. And that shouldn't have led to this." 

"It's gonna…" Hilda waves her hands in front of her eyes as if she's gonna air-dry her tears away. Marianne wipes her tears away instead with a tissue apparently in her hand. "It's gonna take a while for me to believe that, but thanks, you know?" 

"I know." Marianne kisses the ridge of her brow. "I know."

They just sit there for five minutes. Hilda eventually stops crying and Marianne still holds her tight. Hilda faintly recognizes comforting music in the background, soft soundscapes whose music repeats in quiet mewling loops that seem to cry for her. Still, Hilda is as calm as she can be. Not very, but… better.

"I thought I was over this," she admits.

"Huh?" 

" _ This _ ," she repeats. "I… I haven't blacked out since I was just out of high school. I stopped thinking of it as anything more than bad memories." 

"Oh." 

"I… used to, well, apparently still do get into, like, real anger that's so strong that I blackout. Like, when something bad happens I can't take it and I just… stop working and get consumed by this anger." 

Marianne nods. Before Hilda can apologize for it (which she'd do all her life anyways) Marianne kisses her again. "We can move past that," she says, "even if it takes time."

"I just don't want to hurt you." 

"We fought a little bit," Marianne admits after a pause. "But I could tell that you weren't in your right mind so I just wanted to comfort you and help you wake up, so when I stopped feeding it you calmed down." 

Something about her tone feels a little off. Each word feels a little rehearsed. Still, Hilda decides she has nothing more concrete to offer than believing it. "Okay." 

"Something similar happens to me." Marianne frowns performatively. "It… kind of is right now." 

"Really? But you don't seem angry." 

"It's different. More… dissociation. Like… after something… stirs me… real emotions don't hit immediately. I feel like I'm sort of removed from the situation and act robotically." 

"Oh." Hilda looks up at her. "I'm sorry you are." 

Marianne shrugs. "It can be useful. It got us this room. Just… be ready if I suddenly start to cry later, okay?" 

"Like what happened to me?" 

Marianne giggles into her hair. "You're fine." Hilda again has no choice but to believe her, but it's nice to.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Hilda uses that time to get her bearings enough to say "So I have an insurance policy on my car. If it's gone, then I can probably get the money for it. I'll, uh… I'll buy a cheaper car and give you the rest to build your stuff up again. Like, at the very least, you need clothes." With a giggle: "I like you without them, but I understand you might need them."

Marianne's skin heats up next to her. "Goober." Hilda just giggles. Marianne says "I'm not sure if I feel comfortable with that, though." 

"We're in this together," Hilda insists. "Your burdens are my burdens just like my losses are your losses. This is the fairest way to go about everything." 

"Together…" Marianne repeats the word slowly, languidly floating across every syllable. 

"Together." 

Marianne smiles. "Together," she coos. "To be. Together, and be." 

"You have a nice voice." 

"Thanks."

They don't say anything else after that. There's not really much more to be added. Hilda decides to let it coast in Marianne's arms as the music meditates around them, and hopefully, over time, she'll make the return to vigilance that the situation requires.

For both of them, together.


	4. Chapter 4

It doesn't hit her until that afternoon that she's lost everything, and even then she isn't sure who to blame. She can't blame Hilda for being too overrun by kindness to have time for caution. The world isn't kind to them, and that's a bitter reality to face. She smells a load of horse dung in the ranger's story but all she has are suspicions and healthy hate of her side of the world. She knows at the core of things that the car thief is to blame, but she doesn't even know who that is. She probably never will. 

She can't help but blame herself. It's factually probably irrational and she's tried to direct her anger towards those she can't forgive, but she was the one who came back here when the pandemic hit. She was the one who stayed here even when she got with Hilda. She's the one who messed up and let her parents find out. 

She's the one who told them that she was never gonna change.

Her defiance cost her everything.

She doesn't cry. She doesn't feel a need to. It turns out, most of her grieving was done in her nightmares and all that's left are the facts. Losing her possessions… they’re possessions. She kept the few important things she had with her and can replace the rest. She knows how they'll get home- they can take a rideshare to a charter bus station and coach down to Merceus, where Claude will be waiting with his car (one that Hilda warns her is a hunk of junk) to take them to the communal home in Enbarr. 

From there, it's up in the air. How will Marianne replace all that she lost? Where will Marianne stay? Can she find a place? Will she be putting Hilda or Bernadetta out? She cares about Claude and Dorothea too, but one is her girlfriend and the other is a dear friend. She knows of ideas each one could have, but she doesn't know for certain and doesn't want to screw either of them over. 

She can't think of all of that yet.

Unlike Hilda, she remembers the events between finding the car and Hilda waking up from her haze. She remembers escorting Hilda upstairs while she yelled at the manager. She remembers pleading with the manager to let them stay and paying extra to let them even though Marianne  _ knows  _ they were negligent. She remembers calling the police and reporting the theft even though Hilda says the police aren't good for shit and the police certainly proved they didn't care. After she finished Hilda went on a tear about how police legally aren't obligated to help anyone and Marianne said  _ I know, but I couldn't just do nothing. _

She really seemed to get that Hilda was in a bad place when she was sniping at Marianne. Hilda never does that even when normally angry. What is it she said as she was hauling Marianne's boxes? She was mad at a lot of people, but none of them were Marianne. It felt wrong to claim that Hilda wasn't in her right mind because she insulted Marianne, but when combined with her prior anger, it seemed like Hilda was just spewing venom- or the closest thing to it. She tries to let those moments go, but some can't be erased so easily.

_ "Why are you so scared of me?" _

_ "I don't think this kind of anger is normal, Hilda."  _

_ "Not just now. Like sometimes you just stiffen up. Like you're worried I'm gonna hurt you."  _

_ She sucks in a deep breath. "Is this about last night?"  _

_ "I don't fucking know! Should it have been?"  _

_ Then… silence.  _

That's when she started to help Hilda calm down. In a way, she's grateful that Hilda doesn't remember it, but she can't help but feel that it's only fair to address it eventually.

The clock strikes two. Maybe that's what they needed the day for- to relax. To let go. To face the new day and the future with their best. Marianne knows that she needs to fix a lot of things in her mind and heart that the past contaminated. It'll take a lot more time than what twenty-four extra hours allots, but… it's something. 

"Can I show you something, Hilda?" 

Hilda looks up from the pillow she's using and looks at Marianne. "Sure, babe." 

"Cool, just… take it seriously, ok? Like, don't laugh or make jokes?" 

Hilda nods. "I can do that, easy peasy." 

"Thank you." 

After she says that, she pulls down her skirt to her knees. Hilda leans up in shock but follows Marianne's request and keeps her words on her tongue. Still, Marianne can feel the tension until Hilda sees what she's addressed on her thighs. 

"Ohhh." Her face softens.

Marianne nods solemnly, gingerly tracing one of many parallel tiny scars on her legs. "They happened… exactly as you can imagine." 

"Y-yeah…" 

"When you first… really figured it out, you know… that you liked women…" Marianne's hand stops as she tries to find the right words. Hilda waits for her, hand wandering to her shoulder. "What did you do?" 

"Me?" 

Marianne nods, so Hilda continues. "I freaked for a week because I can't keep my own secrets worth a crap. I couldn't closet myself, so I thought I was gonna be outcast at school and made fun of. It turned out… okay. I met Dorothea and Claude in the school's GSA and things went okay from there."

"The GSA?" 

"The Gender/Sexuality Alliance." Then, with a sigh: "I guess your school never had those." 

"Afraid not. It was like… I was living in a box, and no one thought outside it. I never knew… I was normal. Everyone hid from me that being gay was anything more than a sin. All I knew was that I was a freak, I couldn't fix myself, and the goddess hated me. And…" Tears well up in her eyes. "This was how I punished myself."

"Mari…" 

"I'm sorry," she says before the tears start falling. 

"Sorry? What for?" 

"I'm not there yet. I'm not comfortable with myself being… like, you know, a lesbian. But I know I have to learn, and I want to learn because of you… you matter to me. You truly do. And even if sometimes I wish it was just you, I'm comfortable being yours." 

Hilda wipes her own eye and  _ awwwwww _ s. "I know, babe. I know. And you matter to me too. And I know you're not really where you wanna be, but I told you I'd be there for you, and I meant it." 

Marianne looks at her girlfriend. "You did?" 

Hilda smiles, resting a chin on Marianne's shoulder. "Yeah, I… it's something I won't forget. From the call during the late night a couple of months back. You said something really sweet, and I, like, mega-reacted. My heart leaped out of my chest. And you told me 'I want to be as sweet to you as you deserve. Just bear with me until I get to that point?' And I will. You haven't let me down yet." 

Marianne swallows. Hilda kisses the bridge of her nose as if she wants to leave no part of her face untouched. "Even last night?" 

Hilda kisses her again. "More than anything, I was surprised that you initiated it. I  _ definitely  _ didn't expect that." With a sudden gasp. "Oh, honey, your scars. I didn't hurt you, did I?" 

"You didn't know," Marianne says. Before Hilda can respond, Marianne places a finger to her lips. "And I wasn't fully comfortable anyways at first, but I was getting there. And I…" she deliberately eyes Hilda's breasts. "I'll probably get there soon, just…" 

Hilda notices and giggles. "You can be in charge when it happens again." Marianne blushes and Hilda says "That's what you want, right?" 

"It would make me feel safer." Marianne thinks, then adds "No offense, I just me-"

"It's okay," Hilda says with a smile. "I know what you mean. I'm at a point where I'm comfortable with that and I don't mind waiting for you to catch up."

"Thank you…"

The two face each other. When Marianne starts to look down, guilt on her face, Hilda gently lifts her chin back up.

"It's okay," Hilda repeats, tone begging her to forgive herself, and Marianne knows it's a promise. "You're all I want from you." 

Marianne believes her. 

Marianne believes that Hilda's back.


	5. Chapter 5

They wake up at five again the next morning. They fell asleep early last night, but it's just so relaxing to sleep in the crook of Marianne's shoulder. Seeing as they were both exhausted and there was a nonzero chance that the manager could "conveniently" walk in at any moment, they didn't go any further than a few languid kisses, but Hilda would still say she enjoyed herself. The two are so comfortable as they wake that it takes until the song says  _ is it really this cool to be in your life  _ for Hilda to turn it off. 

"I wish we could lay here forever," Marianne coos, "but I also want to get out of this hellish territory and never look back." 

"Trust me, honey, if I could burn it to a crisp behind us, I would." 

Marianne beams with her eyes closed. "I believe you." 

Still, they're responsible and wake up, Hilda pulling Marianne across the bed and onto her feet as she giggles. Hilda looks in her bag and finds a large sweater and pair of loose jeans- loose on her, at least, and she's pretty thick, so Marianne should fit them. Presenting them to Marianne, she says "I figure that you gotta be sick of wearing the same clothes for two days straight. Just borrow some of mine."

Marianne takes them with a coy flip of the hand. "Thank you, Hilda." She looks and sees that the hotel has provided towels. She looks back at Hilda and asks "Do I have time to shower?" 

Hilda gives her a thumbs up. 

"Okay," Marianne responds with a blush. Hilda isn't sure why and is about to tell her to relax, she's not afraid of nudity and has  _ definitely  _ thought of Marianne naked before until Marianne finally says "Would you like to join me?" 

Suddenly Hilda's blushing too. 

The water never gets too warm in this dump that she  _ definitely  _ wants to give a bad review for online, but it's hot enough in there to fog the mirror. Marianne is quiet, perhaps from experience in not being found out, but Hilda has to nearly bite into Marianne's shoulder to not make any noise. She pulsates at every one of Marianne's hitched breaths and quiet gasps and the telltale sound of wet skin rubbing together, and the only reason she doesn't fall over is that Marianne gave her the courtesy of pinning her against the wall while they both get off. 

They don't touch each other anywhere especially vulnerable by Marianne's request, but Hilda commits the visual to memory. Marianne's sky of hair fallen over her narrowed brown eyes as she pants for air, the hunch of her back that straightens the longer they're together, the small stomach folds that never quite straighten out, the shock of fuzz just above Marianne's swiftly circulating palm, the way her knees shake and how her free hand presses into Hilda's chest...

Hilda can't take the sight, the sensations of back and forth motion, the feeling of Mari's breath, the tension of her hand, and her desperate gasps of pleasure for more than ten minutes. She lets go of Marianne's back, bucking her hips so hard she nearly falls over, screaming into Marianne's shoulder. She catches her breath while Marianne finishes, her climax hitting in the form of slightly higher-pitched gasps and a hiss of Hilda's name that strikes her in her loins and nearly makes her go for round two. But they do have to start actually cleaning themselves, so they do as best as they can for two girls who immediately exhausted themselves just after waking up.

"That was nice," Hilda gasps shakily, heart pounding against her chest.

"I… I enjoyed it too, sweetheart." Marianne is shy but Hilda believes her more for it. 

"I just might need you to carry me. I'm feeling wobbly." 

Marianne giggles. "After a good session, I can, uh, be the same way. I just usually stay in bed." 

Hilda takes a deep breath though the idea of Marianne doing it alone still hits her where she's vulnerable. "Good planning," she says. 

Marianne shrugs. "A bit boring, if you wanna know the truth."

Hilda loves when Marianne tells the truth. 

She also loves that Marianne doesn't tease her for failing to unlock the bathroom door three times.

The rideshare is set to show up at seven, so Hilda and Marianne brusquely check out, Marianne unceremoniously handing the card back to the manager and Hilda giving her a stink eye. She's holding the inside bag and Marianne is holding her hand as she opens the door.

The rideshare shows up, the driver sensing that neither one wants to talk. As they ride to the bus station, the music makes the only sound through the plexiglass between driver and riders. Hilda remembers her brother playing this CD when he got it eight years ago, and Marianne takes to it. 

She hears the lyrics of one song twice- in the car, and at the bus station when Marianne sings it in her ear as they wait for theirs, coffee in their hands. She's never heard Marianne really sing before, but her voice is again like wind chimes in a hurricane- beauty amid disaster. Hilda knows that lyrics like  _ I never thought about love when I thought about home  _ must hit Marianne where it hurts, but she sings anyways, hitting  _ I'm on a bloodbuzz, God I am  _ like she only just learned what a blood buzz is. 

_ Marianne's the most beautiful when everything around her is ugly,  _ Hilda decides. She hates how often the two align.

The bus mandates social distancing laws, for which Hilda is grateful because it's sane and feels like home. It doesn't need it because it's nearly empty and no one's intentionally traveling anywhere, but she's sure they and the four other lost souls will appreciate it.

About an hour of silence and bliss in, Hilda asks "what are you gonna do when you get back?" 

Marianne leans into Hilda's arms. "Look for a place. It might take a bit since I don't have a job, but I can find one." 

"Marianne, you're tripping if you don't think you're staying with us." 

"I know," Marianne sighs. "I do look forward to it- truly. I just know we'll be tight on space." 

"We'll make it work," Hilda promises. She wonders if Dorothea will mind being banished to the living room too much. 

The rest of the ride is quiet except for music. Marianne gives Hilda an earbud and keeps one for herself. They listen to songs that sound like they're on a journey. They listen to songs that let them not take things too seriously. They listen to  _ Quiet  _ and  _ My Consequence  _ and  _ Above The Clouds of Pompeii  _ and  _ The Stable Song  _ and a ton of others. When they pull into Merceus, they do so with songs that don't need vocals to sound like wind chimes in a hurricane. 

It feels right to listen to the list with her. Like it's where this was always going to end up. Like they were fated.

When they leave the bus Hilda's overwhelmed by the number of lights there at three in the afternoon, never having been to Merceus before. Marianne looks in awe, saying "I'm still not used to the big city." 

"I think Merceus is a special case." 

The two just stand there and look around at the tall buildings, hear the rush of traffic, and in Hilda's case think of how wonderful it would be to go through downtown with Marianne, holding her hand and running around with no aim in particular, then she hears the honk of a horn that shatters her fantasy.

Whirling around, she sees Claude's old hatchback and Claude waving out the window. "Nice of you to join us!" He teases. 

"Thank you for the ride," Marianne calls back. Her voice isn't very loud, but Claude hears it and Hilda decides to let Claude off easy for scaring the shit out of her.

Dorothea's in the car too, doting on them both from the front seat as they rest in the back. She asks if they're okay and if Marianne will be okay and if Hilda will be okay. Hilda models her "yes" after Marianne's kind affirmations. 

"Is there any way I can help you?" she asks. "After you two lost so much, that's all I can think of." 

"You could sleep on the couch," Hilda half-jokes. 

"Oh!" Claude says as he turns onto the highway. "I think in a few days we'll make some space for Mariangel." 

Marianne giggles. "You're sweet, Claude." 

"Don't give him any reason to brag," Hilda warns. 

Claude just laughs. "Oh, dearest Hilda, how you wound me." 

Dorothea smacks his arm. "We're losing the plot." 

"Oh yeah," Claude muses.

"What plot?" Hilda asks. 

"Bernie's moving out," he says. "She's gonna move in with Lin." 

"Oh!" Marianne says with a shock of pride. "She is?"

"She doesn't have to!" Hilda insists. "I don't wanna kick her out!" 

"This is her choice," Dorothea says, her voice a song as ever. "They're already talking about being alone together." 

Hilda turns to Marianne, who just smiles and adds "She tossed the idea around with me a few times in the last few weeks." 

"She did?" Then: "You two still talk?" 

"Depression twins," Marianne singsongs, a tiny grin on her face, and Hilda laughs. "I gotta admit, though, I didn't expect it to be this soon- Bernie's more of an  _ eventually _ type of girl- but don't worry. She would have done this anyways." 

Hilda nods. Marianne leans into her shoulder and rests against her, and Hilda reckons that's the only comfort she'll get on the car ride home. 

Eventually, the radio picks a song that Claude and Dorothea both sing along to, Dorothea's opera voice filling the car with something grander than the frank and overly verbose lyrics would need. She's louder than the singer, but the lovers in the backseat are quiet, and Hilda would be annoyed if it didn't feel like home. As the song says  _ I am gonna make it through this year if it kills me,  _ Hilda kisses Marianne so softly no one else detects it to tease them, and Marianne hums into her shoulder as they go on to find out what they have to do to make it through the rest of this year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I am becoming a more confident writer as the years go by. At least, I hope.


End file.
